


L is for Long Debates

by scarletmanuka



Series: V/V Alphabet Challenge [12]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:32:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7666930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka





	L is for Long Debates

It was Octeday and the Patrician had no official appointments. He had spent the morning at a fundraiser that Lady Sybil was having for the Sunshine Dragon Sanctuary and was now sitting in one of the smaller drawing rooms with Vimes (he believed it was the Slightly Uglier Shade of Green Than Jade Drawing Room). The women had retired to the dragon coup and he was enjoying a nice cup of tea. 

“Well that wasn’t half as bad as I thought it’d be,” Vimes noted.

“How bad could it have possibly been, Sir Samuel?” 

He shuddered. “This lot were bearable. They’re younger versions of Sybil - sensible, calm, usually called Emma or Sara, and they don’t natter at me. But every now and then one of Sybil’s acquaintances thinks that it’s time their daughter learned what real work was so they send them along to one of these things. Those girls are normally called Beatrice or Felicity, and they have nothing but air between their heads. They squeal at the thought of getting dirty and can’t do the smallest of things for themselves.” He looked morose. “I’ve tried to escape during those times but Sybil has cottoned on and makes Willikins stand guard.”

Vetinari surprised Vimes by laughing out loud. He caught the look thrown at him and covered his mouth. “Apologies, Sir Samuel. I was just wondering how many of them you’ve made cry?”

“What makes you think I’ve made  _ any _ of them cry?” He tried to sound indignant but the steady look from Vetinari told him that he wasn’t selling it. “Okay,  _ fine _ . Maybe one or two…” The Patrician raised an eyebrow. “Urgh! Fine, it was nine. I made nine of them cry!”

“All because of the glare?”

“Eight from the glare, the other was because instead of helping her up when she fell over in a pile of dragon shit, I just laughed.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman?”

Vimes huffed. “I was only ever  _ supposed _ to be plain, old me. You and Sybil are the ones who got these grand ideas to civilise me.” He directed the glare at the assassin. “And you can wipe that grin off your face. It doesn’t become you at all.”

“Oh come now, Sir Samuel. Being a tyrant is just my day job - I  _ am _ still human.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he muttered. “Didn’t you want to play a game of some sort?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“Yes - Hnaflbaflsniflwhiftaf.”

“Bless you. Need a hanky?”

Vetinari smiled patiently. “That’s the name of the game, Commander. It’s an earlier version of Thud.”

“An earlier version?’

“Yes. There have been subtle changes over the years and it evolved into Thud.”

“Why would they change it?”

“I don’t know if the reasons were ever recorded but I assume because the rules that the dwarfs played by changed over time to reflect popular choice.”

“So, two dwarfs were playing and they did something and thought ‘ _ Hey, this works well’ _ ’ and so they told their friends and soon everyone in that mine were playing by those rules because it was better?”

“Something like that.”

“And then it happened again with another rule, and again with another rule?”

“Most likely.”

“And eventually there were enough changes that it turned into Thud?”

“Yes. After so many variations and amendments it no longer resembled Hnaflbaflsniflwhiftaf -”

“Bless you.”

“- but came to be the game we know today as Thud.”

“And so it changed because the original rules weren’t the best?”

“You could say that.”

“Because they wouldn’t have kept making changes if it was fine the way it is.”

“Probably not.”

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, yeah? Just like your family motto.”

“Just like it.”

“You could say that because Thud is the final form that the game took, then it’s the best version there is.”

“Indeed.”

“So, since Thud is the better game…”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t we just play Thud?”

Vetinari sighed. “Don’t you ever enjoy trying something new?”

“Not really. Usually it just means more paperwork.”

“Sometimes it’s good to expand your mind.”

“Are you saying I’m not overly smart?”

“I’m not saying that at all. I’m just saying that it never hurt anyone to try something new for once.”

“I’m pretty sure the first sword swallower didn’t walk away unscathed.”

“Hnaflbaflsniflwhiftaf-”

“Bless you.”

“-is hardly in the same league as sword swallowing.”

“But there’s a precedent. That means there’s a risk.”

“And what do you think could possibly go wrong playing a simple board game? Other than me strangling you of course.”

“You strangling me was the first thing to come to mind.”

“Fine. Let’s play Thud.” They pulled out the board and began to play, continuing to bicker and debate over almost everything they discussed. 

They both enjoyed the afternoon immensely.

Sybil came in at dusk to find the game abandoned and them arguing long and loud over the different ways to cook a potato. Vetinari was stalking around the room, waving his arms in the air, adamant that baked potatoes were a meal in their own right and so it was clearly the best way. Vimes was red in the face and breathing hard as he argued that you needed some form of fat added and so roasted in garlic oil or mashed with milk and butter were the superior methods. 

“If you boys are quite finished?” Sybil interrupted them both mid-tirade. “Dinner will be ready soon, though luckily for me we’re not having potatoes. Havelock, will you be joining us?”

His cheeks were still slightly pink as he answered. “Ah, no, thank you for the invite, but I really must be getting back to the office. I really should prepare for my meeting with the Council of Churches, Temples, Sacred Groves, and Big Ominous Rocks.”

Vimes winced in sympathy. “They’re always terrible to deal with.”

“Indeed. Thank you both for the lovely afternoon. Sybil, it was a pleasure as always,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “I hope you raised enough for the new egg incubator you wanted.” 

“We most certainly did, Havelock. And thank you for your generous contribution. Sam, you’ll walk him out?”

“Of course, Sybil. I  _ am  _ a gentleman afterall.”

Vetinari collected his coat and scarf and Sam escorted him into the front yard where his carriage was waiting. “I had a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon,” he said as he wrapped his scarf around his neck. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

Vimes grinned. “Sometime again soon. I’ll never admit it to anyone else, but arguing with you is one of my favourite pastimes.”

Vetinari chuckled. “I don’t think that’s a secret.”

He shrugged. “That’s debatable.” He opened the carriage door for the Patrician. “Have a good night, sir.”

“You too, Sir Samuel.”

Vimes closed the door, and watched until the horses disappeared around the corner. He then went back inside, feeling disappointed that he wouldn’t be having potato for dinner.

 


End file.
